APRIL FOOL BABIES

Many babies are born on the same night…

But how many carry the very same story throughout a lifetime?

We are living through days that feel heavy, exhausting, and often overwhelming. In times when many emotions seem almost plastic, perhaps growing older makes us look inward more deeply — at what we have gathered, what we have lived through, and the people who once held meaning in our lives. And among all those memories, we find ourselves feeling grateful once again for the rare ones who remained.

For me, birthdays have always been special. Some birthdays are not simply about turning a year older; they are about remembering the gifts that life placed in our hands from the very beginning. Today, I want to share with you the story of one such gift — a rare and beautiful gift that life offered at the very start.

As you may remember from my earlier writings, I am the daughter of a naval officer. The lives of navy children often resemble the fate of the sea itself. While our fathers shared their destinies out at sea, we learned — from a very early age — to live with longing, patience, and the quiet strength of waiting on shore.

When I was born, my father’s ship was anchored offshore. They signaled the news to him using a searchlight. In truth, this was a great piece of luck. Many naval fathers meet their babies for the first time months later. There are moments in life that a baby will never remember, yet a family will tell the story for a lifetime… My very first day in this world was one of those moments.

On the evening of March 31, the first cries echoing through the corridors of the Gölcük Naval Hospital were mine.

“My, how you cried that night…” my mother still says, smiling at the memory. Apparently, I didn’t stop crying for hours.

But I was not the only baby whose story began that night.

In the bed next to my mother lay another young woman, waiting to hold her baby in her arms. Beautiful Meral Auntie…

And toward the early hours of April 1, in those very same corridors, another baby came into the world.

Ajda…

You know how people sometimes ask, when they see two people side by side,

“How do you know each other?”

I suppose the ones who can say,

“Since the very first moment we were born,”

are usually twins…

—or people like us.

Of course, many babies are born in the same hospital, on the same night. Many lives begin in the same corridors, within the same hours.

But how many of them had mothers who labored in the same room… whose paths crossed again and again from childhood into adulthood… whose bond was written into life from the very first breath?

That is what makes our friendship rare — and precious.

Back then, there was no social media to decorate a baby’s face with stickers and share it with the world. Forget mobile phones — even having a proper telephone was not so common.

We were babies whose births were announced to relatives and loved ones by telegrams on the morning of April 1.

April Fool babies…

Today, we live in a world where birthdays are celebrated with a single message, a photograph, or an emoji.

But there are some bonds that are not built by technology.

They are built by destiny.

We grew up in a small town and, for a while, attended the same schools. Perhaps we were not always side by side every single day. Life carried us in different directions. Yet in adulthood, through our work, through shared circles, in both joyful and difficult times, our paths kept crossing again and again.

And this year was no different.

On the morning of my 54th birthday, the very first message I received was once again from Ajda. She had taken a photograph of a page from our high school yearbook and sent it to me — a page I had signed many years ago, in my own handwriting, addressing her as “To my Ajda…”

“Happy birthday, my dear…

Wishing you years filled with health, happiness, passion, and love,”

she wrote — decorating her message with applause, hearts, and little symbols of good luck.

Two women…

Born in the same hospital, on the same night…

Touched each other’s lives from their very first breath.

More than half a century has passed since then — different cities, different lives, countless experiences. And yet, a bond that never broke…

A bond that still makes us look forward, with quiet excitement, to these two special mornings every year.

And our story would feel incomplete without remembering Meral Auntie, who left us far too early in life. The mark she left on our childhood is still vivid today. In a child’s life, elegance is sometimes far more than a beautiful dress — it is the feeling of being valued.

She did not only dress her own children beautifully; she dressed us as well. As we grew up wearing those carefully chosen outfits from her little boutique, we were, in truth, growing up wrapped in her kindness and affection.

May she rest in peace.

Today, although we do not live very far apart, Ajda and I are in different cities. That is why it was not possible to include a recent photograph of us together in this piece.

But some bonds are not made visible through photographs — they become visible through memories. They are not measured by distance. Their strength comes from the rarity of their beginning.

And the truth is, both of us know how precious this rare gift of life truly is.

From here, I send a warm embrace to my dear friend, across the distance, and celebrate our birthday once again.